God damn, I’m getting better at this.
My scripts are tighter. My dialogue is sharper. There’s less fat and more sizzle, less Walking Dead and more Mad Men. Two issues down on the writing end and I do believe I’m building muscle. Writing’s not a chore, not something I have to lash myself into doing, not these days. It’s become habit—even better, it’s become routine. Even when I’m catching up on Justified, Hulu shares the screen with an open word document. It’s a weird feeling, and it tingles. This high school hobby is becoming a job.
This weekend will find me in San Francisco, flashing my face at WonderCon. I’m there to remind the companies we pitched AVERY to exactly who we are, and also to touch base with some of the nice folks we met at Emerald City—not that the two groups are mutually exclusive. I’m there to show we’re taking ourselves seriously, but not awfully seriously, and the men and women with the money should regard us accordingly. It’s just a little thing, but I’ve got the travel money and the darling Great-Aunt Nina I haven't seen in forever, so why not? It’s been a long time since I enjoyed the agony and ecstasy of California public transit.
Meanwhile, though AVERY’s future is still in the waiting place, JD and I may have rustled up a paying gig on the sly. The next few days will tell, but I have a good feeling about this. I’m reliably informed the editor in question has an excellent eye for talent.
Sequence from THE LONE RANGER, by Brett Matthews and Sergio Cariello. Dan-recommended.